Together We Stand
by Elerrina Star
Summary: A Collection of drabbles, one-shots, etc., based around Marcus and Esca's amazing friendship, updated whenever I get inspired. No slash. Chapter 7 up!
1. By Your Side

**A/N: This is just a snippit of something that was hiding out on my hard drive that I decided to post. I may add more drabbles later if I write any more, but for now it's just this one. No slash, just brotherly love and best friendishness. :)**

**Disclaimer: The Eagle and all it's characters/settings belong to Rosemary Sutcliff and NBCUniversal. I also don't own the dialog, which I borrowed and tweaked from another film to fit this one. Cookies to anyone who knows which movie I borrowed it from! :D**

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><p>Esca stood his ground, watching intently as the painted warriors of the Seal People approached. This was it, he knew. Even with the aid of the old legionnaires there was little chance that they would win this fight; little chance that he would see the next sunrise.<p>

He glanced around him and his eyes came to rest on Marcus, his master-turned-brother, and he wondered what had happened to cause him to trust this man, this _Roman_, so much that he stood by him now, waiting to fight and to die with him.

"It's strange," he muttered, and Marcus turned to him with a questioning gaze.

"I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a Roman."

Marcus considered this then smiled crookedly. "What about side by side with a friend?"

Esca nodded, smiling grimly but with contentment. "Yes," he answered, quiet but firm, "I could do that."

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><p><strong>Please Review. :)<strong>


	2. Just A Bad Dream

**A/N:** **Well would you look at that, I came up with another one a lot faster than I thought I would. It's a double drabble (200 words exactly) this time. Some of the dialog comes directly from the scene in the movie (which you'll recognize when you start reading). Thanks to LeDragonQuiMangeDuPoisson and Mrs. Pencil for their reviews for chapter 1. And just a reminder, this isn't slash.**** Hope you enjoy! :D**

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><p>"<em>Kneel," Esca ordered harshly, glaring down at Marcus with cold fury in his eyes. Marcus, stubborn fool that he was, glared back and did not comply.<em>

_His stomach twisting in a knot of frantic concern Esca struck the disobedient Roman, delivering a blow that snapped his once-master's head back. "Get on your knees!" __**Please, you fool, do as I say!**_

_When Marcus still refused Esca grew desperate, though his eyes still showed nothing save for his cold hatred of the man before him. "Do it!"_

_When at last Marcus dropped to his knees Esca sprang forward, grabbing the young centurion by the hair and jerking his head back roughly. Looking boldly up at the Seal Prince, Esca showed no emotion save icy disinterest. "If it please you," he said to the prince in his own tongue, "kill him."_

_Esca knew what would happen next; he knew that the prince's hospitality wouldn't allow him to kill the servant of a guest. Confident in his bluff Esca continued to hold Marcus's head back as the prince stepped nearer._

_He could only stare, horrified, as the painted prince whipped out his knife and swiftly and smugly slit Marcus's throat._

"_No!"_

Esca jerked awake with a startled gasp, his eyes glancing around frantically for a moment before coming to rest on the cot that lay across the room from his own. Marcus stirred tiredly and sat up, squinting across the room in concern. "Esca? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Esca answered, sinking back onto his own cot and rolling away from Marcus's confused stare. He clenched his jaw, attempting to force the images of his nightmare from his mind, along with all the 'what if's and 'could have been's that swirled through his thoughts. "I'm fine," he said again. "Just a bad dream."


	3. Drabble 3

**A/N:** **Oh wow, another one! Believe it or not this is impressive for me. I almost never come up with drabbles this quickly (boy does that sound sad…). Anyway, here we have another double drabble. I really wanted to come up with something that wasn't h/c, but, well, I'm a h/c addict, so… I hope you like it anyway! It kinda turns fluffy-ish towards the end, so maybe that makes up for it? This one is actually a little more book-verse, but people who have only seen the movie will easily be able to follow it without confusion, so no worries there. :)**

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><p>Marcus didn't remember much of time immediately following the day he and Esca made it safely back to the wall. He remembered making it to the fortress, had vague recollections of going to the home of the commander of the legion who guarded the wall; he even remembered conversing with the man, presenting the Eagle with pride and watching the commander's face go slack with shock.<p>

Then he remembered falling, sinking to the ground while thin but strong arms struggled to ease his descent and a worried voice called his name.

After that there were only flitting shadows and muffled voices. Marcus was never entirely sure how long he'd been ill. In fact, the only thing he was ever sure of was that Esca had never once left his side. The Briton had been there through the pain and the long nights of fevered nightmares, silently bathing Marcus's brow or murmuring words of simple comfort whenever the dreams became unbearable.

Eventually Marcus recovered, but neither man ever mentioned what had passed. Esca never asked for thanks and Marcus never gave them. Both knew that Marcus would have done the same had their places been reversed, and that was thanks enough.

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><p><strong>AN/2: Please review?** **Also just thought I'd add that I'm willing to accept requests if anyone has any? I can't **_**promise**_** to fill them, but I will do my best. All I ask is that they be non-slash, because I don't write that.**


	4. The Call

**A/N:** Hmmm. It's been a while since I wrote anything for this fandom. To my readers I can only say "Sorry"! But thanks to a four hour car trip and the worlds most awesome writing app for iPhone, you guys get another one-shot. Hope you find it worth it! It's a little (lot) random and has something of a cliffie; I've been toying with the idea of turning it into a longer story later - or else just a mini-arc if I get the inspiration. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy! Especially as it's my last official post of 2011. :O :D

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><p><strong>Title:<strong> The Call  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 649  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> None  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A message comes for Marcus, bearing news that neither he nor Esca ever expected. As always, no slash.

o0oOo0o

When the messenger came Esca was in the field, tending to one of the horses. Neither he nor Marcus saw much hope for the animal; it had unexpectedly taken lame for reasons neither man understood. Marcus had, with unusually morbid humor, observed that there would be two cripples on the farm now, though he hoped he proved more useful than the horse would.

The messenger had ridden up to the house calling for Marcus, passing a thick roll of parchment to the young Roman before riding away. Esca hadn't thought much of it; he assumed it to be a letter from Marcus' uncle, whom they heard from on random occasions.

While reading the missive Marcus' face went from curious, to shocked, to dark with anger. After several long minutes the ex-centurion spun, stalking towards the house and entering quickly, slamming the door behind him.

Esca frowned but didn't immediately follow, choosing to give Marcus some space should his friend need it first. After nearly a half hour Esca finally finished his task, leading the limping horse into the small stable and leaving it before he followed Marcus into the house.

He found Marcus in the main room that served them as a mixed kitchen and living space. The once-centurion sat by the fire, one hand rubbing absently at his wounded leg - a habit that Esca had noticed took place whenever Marcus was unhappy.

The look on Marcus' face was grim, a mixture of longing, confusion, and dismay. He didn't look at Esca, his gaze instead remaining firmly locked on the flames that danced merrily in the hearth.

Such behavior was unusual for the young Roman, and Esca felt a pang of concern. "Marcus? What is the matter?"

Without looking up Marcus cast the roll of parchment on the table. "The Emperor has declared Rome to be at war with the 'barbaric hoards of the North'," the young soldier said, a hard edge to his tone.

Esca's face tuned grim, his old hatred for Rome stirring in his breast at the news. Here in Spain he and Marcus had been able to avoid the ever growing tensions between Britons and Romans, but he had known that the uneasy peace would not last forever. They both had. It was grim news indeed, but expected, so it should not have effected Marcus in this way. There was more, Esca could tell. "We knew it would come eventually. That is not what troubles you."

Marcus' lips quirked upwards in a mirthless smirk. He stood, taking up the roll of parchment again. "These are my orders," he said, crumpling the roll angrily in his fist. "My discharge has been revoked. I've been ordered to return to my legion."

Esca found himself momentarily speechless. That he had not expected, and nor had Marcus, if the Roman's mood was anything to judge by. But it couldn't be possible, couldn't be true. Marcus' leg still pained him, it had never really healed; it was strong enough on most days but there was no way it would hold up under the stresses and physical demands of full-on battle. To send Marcus to war, skilled soldier as he was, was as good as sending him to his death.

_How can they do this?_ Esca considered asking. But he knew how. Such was the way of Rome.

"What are you going to do?" the Briton asked instead. None of his doubts could be heard in his tone, only his calm demeanor showing through.

Marcus' fist clenched tighter, the papers crackling as he crushed them. What would he do? What _could_ he do? To disobey was punishable by death, but to obey was to fight for a cause that he could no longer support.

He lifted his hands, his face set in an uncharacteristic expression of loss and helplessness. "I don't know," he said, shoulders slouching. "I don't know..."

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><p><em>To Be Continued...? <em>

_HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! :D_


	5. The River: Marcus

A/N: Ackkk! I am sooooo sorry to anyone who has been reading this. My muse up and died, then came back but in an entirely different fandom! But at last, I am here. Hope I still have readers left to enjoy this! It's written a little oddly, almost all of it in past-tense, but I was in the mood to experiment a little and this was the outcome. Hope it's not too off-putting. =P

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><p>Title: The River: Marcus (12)  
>Word Count: 645 (this chapter)<br>Warnings: Spoilers (contains dialog directly from the film)  
>Summary: Exploration of the scene by the river after Esca left for help. Based on a prompt from R5my - hope this is close to what you were looking for, hon! Sorry it took me so long to get it up! As always, no slash.<p>

o0oOo0o

_He is coming back..._

It was a litany that Marcus had been repeating to himself ever since Esca had gone. It wasn't that he didn't trust Esca. All real doubt on that score had vanished forever the moment that the young Briton had woken him on the beach and Marcus had realized that the other man had never actually betrayed him.

_He is coming back..._

No, this had nothing to do with trust. Marcus whispered this to himself because it was the only thing that kept him from sinking. Esca was coming back, and Marcus would be damned if he came back to a dying man because the young Roman had been too weak to hold on.

_He _is_ coming back. _

In his heart Marcus almost wished that Esca _was_ a liar, that the younger man _wouldn't_ come back. There was little hope of escaping now, and if one of them had to die he didn't want it to be the Briton. It wasn't even about the Eagle anymore. It was about the man who had gone from slave to enemy, enemy to friend. It was about Esca, and Marcus just wanted him to be safe.

"_Take the Eagle. If you find horses come back. It's - not far. Just keep South... make sure this gets back to Rome."_

"_I'm not leaving you here."_

Marcus had known that he wouldn't, but he'd _hoped, _Mithras knows he had prayed that Esca would just go, would leave him behind and get away before the Seal People caught and killed them both.

"_I swore an oath of honor, never to abandon you! If you want me to leave... set me free. Give me my freedom."_

Marcus had been dumbstruck. For his part the oath had been long forgotten, the knife in his belt the only reminder. Even before the Seal People there had been something between he and Esca that, except in times of anger, had made the oath moot anyway. There had been a growing bond, not quite friendship but more than master and slave. In the past days that bond had turned into something else. It had made them family, brothers in all but blood. Marcus had given Esca his freedom willingly - as far as he was concerned Esca had been free long ago.

"_You're free. You're free my friend." Now go. Please, Esca, go!_

But of course Esca wouldn't leave, not even then, and Marcus had realized that for the Briton it wasn't about oaths or honor anymore either. Still and in spite of this new-found knowledge Marcus raised the Eagle, keeping up pretenses for what reason he didn't even know. Maybe because he thought that it was the only way that Esca would leave. Whatever the reason, he had been wrong.

"_Take it." _

"_No."_

Marcus felt his self-control slipping, as for the smallest part of a second unwanted doubts had whispered to him that Esca would leave him after all. Now free from his oath he was free to go, and go he would.

But then Esca had dropped to his knee, placing a cold but firm hand against Marcus' neck, and leaned forward until their foreheads almost touched.

"_I _will _return."_

It was a promise, and Marcus believed it even as he dreaded its fulfillment. As he lay on the muddy riverbank it was all that kept him from slipping away into the darkness, all that kept his fever-wracked body from giving out in despair and weakness. It was the promise that gave Marcus to strength to rise and go forward on his own.

_He is coming back..._

When Esca appeared, followed by the all the remained of the Ninth Legion, the two men met each other's gazes, their eyes expressing more in that look than any words could possibly hope to convey.

_I told you that I would return_.

Marcus felt himself smile.

_I knew that you would._

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><p><em>Part two coming in a day or so! Esca's POV. Thanks again to<em> **R5my **_for the prompt! _

_Reviews are love!_


	6. The River: Esca

**A/N:** Ughhh. This chapter gave me no small amount of trouble. Esca was being stubborn and uncooperative and wouldn't come out right whenever I tried to write him and I ended up rewriting the darn thing three times. Hopefully this final product doesn't end up being too terrible. Thanks again to **R5my** for the prompt, and to all of you guys for the reviews! Hope you don't mind that I didn't reply to them all yet - figured you'd rather have the next chapter instead. :) Hugs to all! xoxox

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><p>Title: The River: Esca (22)  
>Word Count: 742<br>Warnings: Spoilers (more movie dialog)  
>Summary: Exploration of the scene by the river after Esca left for help. Esca's POV.<p>

o0oOo0o

_He'll be waiting. He'll be there. Stay, Marcus. Wait for me. I will come back._

It was a litany, a promise that kept Esca going, that kept his legs pumping and his breath coming in quick but steady gasps long after aching exhaustion had sat in. It was a promise, but one dampened and mixed with the knowledge that if he didn't keep running then, either from his hurts or at the hands of the enemy, Marcus was going to die. He was already fading. He wasn't going to last much longer.

_Wait for me. I will come back._

From the moment Marcus had fallen for the last time Esca had known that it was hopeless. There was no way they would both make it to the wall before the Seal People caught them. Even then the thought of running, of abandoning the Roman to his fate had never occurred to the young Briton.

Marcus had known the danger as well and he had done his best to send Esca away, under the pretense of getting the Eagle to safety.

"_Take the Eagle. If you find horses come back. It's - not far. Just keep South... make sure this gets back to Rome."_

"_I'm not leaving you here."_

Marcus had tried to order him away but still Esca had refused. He would not go, not while Marcus still lived, not even if Marcus died. They would escape together or they would die together, it was as simple as that.

"_I swore an oath of honor, never to abandon you!" _

Yet it wasn't really even been about the oath anymore, just like it wasn't really about the Eagle. Once Esca would have stayed because he was bound by honor, but now he was bound by something else, something stronger than a simple oath could ever be.

_"If you want me to leave... set me free. Give me my freedom."_

It wouldn't really change anything, there was no way the Briton would abandon Marcus. Still, the young Roman had freed him instantly, willingly, and for one short second Esca had allowed himself to take peace in the fact that he was finally and truly free again.

"_You're free. You're free my friend."_

Free. But not to leave Marcus behind. No. Now he was free to do all that it took to make sure the Roman survived - or to die alongside him. One hand had closed around the knife while the other grasped the wrist of the man he had come to think of as a brother, and the bond of friendship and brotherhood had instantly and forever been sealed. Only death would free Esca now.

As they pulled apart Marcus had lifted the Eagle, still insisting that Esca take it away and come back for him if he could. Still pretending that a simple piece of metal actually mattered.

"_Take it." _

They had both known that it wasn't really what mattered at all.

"_No."_

Doubt and despair had crossed Marcus' face and eyes full of misery had looked up at him, pleading with him to just take it and _go_. But Esca dropped to his knee and leaned in close, clasping his brother's neck in a faint semblance of an embrace while their foreheads nearly touched; he had looked Marcus in the eye and with three simple words put all of the Roman's doubts to rest.

"_I will return." Even if only to die by your side._

The answer had been slow in coming and silent when finally given, but Esca had heard it none the less.

_I'll be waiting._

It had been all that he'd needed to hear. It kept him moving forward while his brother stayed behind, and with each step that Esca made he could only pray that Marcus _would_ still be there when he finally reached him again.

_Stay, Marcus. Just wait for me. Just wait._

When he met Gurn and the legionnaires Esca hadn't even stopped to regain his breath. "There is no time. We have to go back." _I have to go back._

When they finally reached the gully in the river Marcus was waiting for him, still pale, exhausted, bleeding, and weakened, but blessedly alive. The two men met each other's gazes, their eyes expressing more in that look than any words could possibly hope to convey.

_I told you I'd still be here._

Esca nodded and allowed himself a small smile.

_I knew that you would be._

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><p><em>Hope that wasn't TOO awful. Usually Esca is so much easier to write... anyway, please let me know what you thought! Cookies for everyone whether you review or not. :)<em>


	7. The Call: Where You Go, I'll Follow

A/N: Hey guys! Have you missed me? :D

I offer no explanation for my absence from this fandom aside from a cruel and fickle muse. But after a very sweet message/review from **DeleaMarie **I dug this half-finished tidbit out of my "WIP" file and fixed it up. It's a continuation of chapter 4. _The Call. _If I get the muse again I'll wrap up the arc with at least one more, but since I've proven to be so terrible at updating I'll make no promises.

Enjoy the update, guys! Dedicated to **DeleaMarie** since she's the one who got me moving again. Hope you like it, my friend!

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><p><strong>Title:<strong> The Call: Where You Go, I'll Follow (2/?)  
><strong>Word Count: <strong>897  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> None  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Marcus is off to war, but Esca is determined to make sure the Roman knows that he won't be going alone. Continuation of _The Call._

o0oOo0o

"You're leaving."

The Roman looked up, guilt flushing his face as he stowed another item into his small rucksack. Esca stood in the doorway, calm and stoic - and stealthy - as ever as he observed the young centurion's actions.

Marcus had been packing since daybreak, sneaking about the house whenever Esca was absent, hiding things away to be slid into the pack he now held in his hands. His reasons for such stealth were hard to explain, even to himself, but now that he had been caught he could only look away guiltily. "I am."

From the doorway Esca merely nodded. Ever since Marcus had received his orders to rejoin his legion the Briton had been expecting this. He had watched all day as his friend snuck about, packing and hiding things away when he thought Esca too busy to notice.

"When will you go?"

Marcus hesitated. "My orders are to be in Rome within the month," he answered evasively. "It will have to be soon if I'm to make it in time."

Nodding again the Briton leaned against the doorframe, arms across his chest. "Were you going to tell me?"

A sigh leaked past the lips of the troubled young cohort-centurion, his head falling a little as he focused on the wall, the bed, anything but the man behind him. In truth he hadn't planned on telling Esca at all, or at least not until he had been ready to go and it was too late for the Briton to make ready and join him. "Yes. In the morning," he finally muttered.

"As you were leaving?" Esca asked knowingly, a surprising lack of anger in his voice. "You were just going to ride off and leave me here to tend the horses?"

Another sigh. "It wasn't going to be like that." Only it was and they both knew it.

"You can't come, Esca," Marcus continued tiredly but with solemn finality. "I knew the only way to stop you would be to keep it from you until it was too late."

"And you thought that would stop me?" the Briton asked, sounding more amused than anything. "As if I wouldn't just ride after you."

"Esca, you _can't-"_

"You're not going to war without me, Marcus," the young warrior interrupted firmly. "If you go so am I."

Marcus shook his head. This was exactly why he hadn't said anything before. Esca had no place in the legions, and there was no way that Marcus would drag his friend off into what everyone but the emperor knew was probably suicide. Not again. "You can't go as a soldier," he insisted.

"Then I'll go as your slave."

The meaning, the determination, the _loyalty _behind those words stopped Marcus cold for a moment. That the Briton considered him a close friend, perhaps a brother, the Roman knew - he felt the same; but for Esca to be willing to undergo - yet again - the humiliation of being a slave just so that Marcus wouldn't have to go alone...?

It was... it was... Marcus couldn't even begin to find the words to describe it.

"Esca-"

The Briton cut him off with a raised hand. "You're not stopping me, Marcus."

With a long breath the centurion turned away. "You know who we'll be fighting," he said heavily, insistently, in one last attempt to dissuade his friend. "_Your_ _people_ - Britons. We'll be killing them. Slaughtering them. I won't ask that of you."

At last Esca was silent for a long while, the consequences of his choice being carefully weighed. The decision was not easy - loyalty to his people versus loyalty to one single man. Neither path would be simple and guilt would follow no matter which he chose. The only question was which decision would haunt him the most.

"It's not that I don't want you there, Esca," the centurion admitted after a while. In truth, the side of him that was selfish wanted nothing more than to have the Briton as his side in this. But he would never, ever ask it, and the side of him that was afraid of losing his all-but-blood brother wished that Esca would, for once, bow to the side of safety, forget loyalty, and just stay home.

Eventually Esca raised his head and stared his friend straight in the eyes. "You must go." It wasn't a question but Marcus nodded anyway, hope and dread both warring inside of him.

"Then so must I."

It was said with such simple finality that Marcus knew that to argue was useless. Still, he had to make absolutely sure. "Are you certain?"

Esca nodded. "You know I am."

Closing his eyes for a moment in resignation, the centurion allowed both the dread - and the relief - to have their way with him. Soon he raised his head again. "We'll have to find someone to take on the horses."

"I already have."

Surprised, Marcus stared for a moment before the realization hit him - Esca had probably been planning this since the orders arrived. In fact his mind had probably been made up well before Marcus' own had.

In spite of everything the centurion had to smile. "You'd best pack, then," he said with a small and lopsided grin.

Marcus watched as Esca smirked and turned to walk away. He had to laugh aloud at the Briton's parting words.

"I've already done that, too."

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><p><em>As always, reviews are love! :)<em>


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